Only the Blue eyes
by Windfaring scent
Summary: Draco is diagnosed with cerebral palsy. Hermione is a spy and watches as Draco's condition deteriorates. Can she continue to watch? Rated R for future chapters and Adult language
1. Default Chapter

Yes I am le Jasmine and I am here bringing to you another one of the lovely fanfics on the love between Draco and Hermione. I don't own Harry Potter, but ya know the future changes things...  
  
Anyways, here's prologue...  
  
Mortified that he woke up late, a young boy, no maybe soon a man, reached bleary eyed for his clock. seeing a promising 8:00 a.m., he dismissed castigation for later times.   
  
Rolling his body to the edge of the bed, he reached for his robe and stumbled slightly. Red-faced, he warned himself not to get angry. Afterall, he should be thankful. Many were much worse off.   
  
Bright open terrace windows welcomed him to the morning. Slowly coming onto the cool damp marble, he squinted. Then shaking his hair to release sleep, he opened his eyes.   
  
And the morning sun and nature held their breath. His clear eyes, glittered like the cool waters of the arctic.   
  
He lifted his arms and put one behind his neck, arching his back in a primitive gesture that was so natural.   
  
Everything felt perfect so far, it was going to be a beautiful day.  
  
He couldn't know he was being watched.  
  
Not much was interesting in watching this boy. That's what most people thought with their skimming glances.  
  
He was a Malfoy and true to his heritage. His cornsilk blonde tresses were neatly trimmed and were hanging loosely. He had a strong eyebrow, and his nose was a perfect sillouete of his British ancestry, straight and pointed.  
  
Then they were the thin and supple lips that were now shaped in his girl catching grin. And the strong jaw that was more often clenched against his father than anyone else. Yes, he was beautifully built...to a point.  
  
His upper body was lean and held the strength of years of good use.   
  
But further down lay is problem. His legs were neatly encased in the metal braces of his wheelchair...  
  
She watched unknowingly gaping at him in his most private moment. She couldn't help but think,"Malfoy, smiling to greet the day...?"  
  
She shook her head as best she could in her disguise and decided that she wanted a short break. He couldn't get into too much trouble in the morning.   
  
But the afternoon was a different story.  
  
a/n: This is only ze' beginning!  
  
woo hoo! yea I know, I'm excited...  
  
He turned around quickly...sometimes he thought he was crazy. It felt like someone was watching him just now. Slowly shaking his head, Draco looked down at the land below, it stretched on for miles, his inheritance, he thought.   
  
Just sitting in the chair made him feel incapable of handling it all. He was haughty around the others, but in truth, he knew his limitations.   
  
He would never be able to run, barely walk according to St. Mungos and several other "alternative" places of medicine his father had taken him to.   
  
His eyes grew sad and he sharply turn in his chair and rolled back into the darkness of his room.   
  
The clean look of his room exemplified the prestige of his family. A soft lightest of gray rug covered the floor under his bed and ran onto the edge of the walls.  
  
There was an air of modern fetish in the room mixed with classic taste.  
  
His king size bed sat in the middle and was made of ebony wood with sheets and pillows of black satin edged with silver silk. Of course the sheets were embroidered with the family crest.  
  
And his huge fireplace was large enough to fit several people with ample head room.  
  
All the dressers were of a deep dark stained wood from the Black forest, centuries old and embossed with a single family crest.  
  
the smooth curves of all his possessions was highlighted with the high gloss and magical knobs. Enchanted by merlin, they were made of a stone that shone like the liquid sand in an opal.  
  
and the magnificence of the room saddened him.  
  
The comfort he was accustomed to had little sentiment to uplift him.  
  
He wheeled over to the marble bathroom.  
  
It was no exception to the rest of his room. It was made of black and white marble, and quite sizeable.  
  
There was a huge inground bath made in 250 B.C. and a shower made more recently the knobs all ornately built to match the theme of his bath.   
  
He took off his robe and gingerly began to remove his legs from their casings.  
  
As he did so he couldn't help but feel as if he was being watched.It happened a lot lately. He turned expecting a wandpoint and breathed in relief when he found just a small bird.  
  
It must have come in through the window...  
  
Hermione almost died. She returned to find that he was moving out of the terrace with that same broken look he always had when thinking.   
  
She was annoyed at herself for caring. He was only an assignment afterall...  
  
She breathed a small bird sigh when he turned back to his legs. She twitted and turned to fly out the window when it all went black.  
  
Draco was not one for pets, but somehow he wanted to at least pet the bird without causing hysteria. He put his hands around it and picked it up.   
  
when he lifted his thumbs from it's face, his eyes went wide in surprise when it turned and glared at him...those eyes reminded him of something.  
  
He laughed out loud. The sound echoed off the tiled walls...he hadn't laughed out loud in a long time. Hearing it was welcome.  
  
Draco liked the little bird, it was so soft and a bright brown that brought the only color besides his own bright eyes to the black and white room.  
  
He had to admit sometimes he felt as if the lack of color drained him. It was nice to hold the warm bird in his cold hands.  
  
Hermione could have sqawked when she felt his hands close around her, he had scared the sound out of her.  
  
Gasping for breath, she turned and glared at him. How dare he grab me like that!  
  
Then she noticed how lovingly he looked at her, but his hands were way too cold.  
  
She made a pathetic bird noise and he snapped from his reverie and let her go.  
  
He watched her sadly as she hopped then flew to the door and out into the sky.  
  
He looked so alone in that big room...  
  
so how was it? Please Read and review! 


	2. The fire's in

Chapter two...when the Fire lights up..  
  
So does that sound like a good chapter title? I hope so...let us see. I don't own HP or anything, just my little story.  
  
After sitting to watch the bird for a moment longer, Draco returned his attention to his legs.   
  
They were the bane of his existence. How could he just sit here with these weak and insufferable legs! He wanted to shout a lot lately.  
  
He began to absentmindly turn on all the needed water and soap.  
  
His thoughts returned to more pains.   
  
With the return of the dark lord, he was in an even more precarious position.  
  
Even with his disability, he would be asked for his loyalty soon enough. In fact, this year he would be of age. There was some dark convenant with the death eaters and their master...he knew that.  
  
Soon Draco might be sacrificed by his parents to ensure the continuation of family honor. If not for his legs Voldemort might has already enquired after his position. He woke from these worries when warm water began to bubble onto the floor.  
  
Forgetting his thoughts when the tub began to tip over with foam, he cursed, and with a quick flick of magic the water subsided.  
  
Grinding his teeth with the dull twinges of weak nerves, he slowly lifted his legs and lowered himself onto the floor next to his bath.  
  
Dipping his hand in first, he pushed his legs into the water and slid in. He went completely under and look at the world from under his blue impervious shield.   
  
The water held him and comforted him, just like a unborn child in the womb.  
  
Weird that he would think of that...his birth wasn't exactly normal.  
  
His mother was sick with the prospect of giving birth. She was frail and almost anemic as it was. She was wracked with so many complications that it's no wonder he turned out like he did.  
  
The birth was supposed to be routine, but one thing after another occured that would determine his destiny. Eventually his mother gave a last cry and he was out.  
  
He wasn't very big, a preemie. And his small lungs took quite a long time to free of liquid.  
  
No one was quite sure what cerebral palsy was at first. All his mother knew was that she had failed in providing a competent heir, that was enough for her to hate. She needed nothing else.  
  
And his father sneered, he'll have to do. Though thinking that the small bundled child wasn't going to be able to complete much.  
  
"And he was right," Draco sighed softly. Draco's vision was beginning to tunnel, it was getting lovely and warm.   
  
She had returned pouting at what orders Paul had thrown at her.   
  
"You did what!?!"  
  
"I just went to check on him..."  
  
"Did you remember you're not in the muggle world? People are more suspicious here. Birds don't normally fly everywhere they please!"  
  
"ok ok, I give up trying to please the poor bloke. He just looked a little down."  
  
"Good, I want you to trail him, remember he might be our only way to trace the dark lord. The only."  
  
Walking softly under her invisibility charm, Hermione padded towards the bathroom. She lost the pout when she noticed a running bath and foam but no Draco. His wheel chair was there but...  
  
She had come just in time, Draco was sputtering miserably. He had misjudged his capacity for staying underwater and neglected to notice he was drowning.  
  
"stupid prat. Why do I have to rescue him all the time. Grrr!"  
  
His head pounding, Draco looked around in a daze with a delerious look on his face.   
  
How? Who? What? Then he wiped his face and realized who...all went black.  
  
After going to fetch master's plates the little house elf found him nowhere. Frightened, she scurried to find him unconscious and wet on the bathroom floor.  
  
Sitting next to his flickering fire, wrapped in tons of warm blankets, Draco sipped his tea and shuddered. He had been so unnaturally stupid this morning.   
  
Lately it seemed the cerebral palsy was affecting his motor functions more and more. He feared he would lose the wit and intelligence that was saved when his legs were not.  
  
Not that he was complaining. He had seen cases in the muggle hospitals where children could barely keep from drooling all over themselves.  
  
Ha. A Malfoy in such a predicament? He wouldn't allow that. He understood family honor to that point. Even he wouldn't want his affliction to tarnish the family name.  
  
But here he was warm and sipping tea, and he still couldn't find comfort. He was confused. What had saved him? He could only remember a blur of brown and then black.  
  
Screwing his brow to think, he could remember a voice. An angry voice. He would think that if there was a thing such as angels they would have soothing voices. This one cursed at him...  
  
Stupid! I can't believe it. Hermione walked back and forth the barefoot in her London flat. Bloody 'ell! She began taking on the tone she reserved for extreme situations.  
  
After a few random curses and objects were thrown, she slowed and breathed. It couldn't be that bad. He was out cold after she got him out of the bathroom. And she had managed to throw on the cloak right before the house elf appeared.   
  
It was a little wet, but Harry wouldn't mind, it would dry.  
  
So what was bothering her then? Maybe it was the fact that she had commited herself to not getting emotionally involved. But...  
  
She still remembered how close to death he looked. But his eyes. In the light of his bathroom they had looked a golden blue. Like sparks of molten gold firing up in his eyes.  
  
He had looked at her in a way that she had never been looked at.  
  
He had reached and touched her face with his wet hand, and she didn't mind the cold. In fact, she was annoyed when a small sound alerted her to the house elf.  
  
She looked around her little flat. It was neat and homey. With plentiful red cushions for the fluffy arm chairs and lots of warm mahogany. Her table was a rounded rectangle perfect for having a few friends over for some wine and good times.   
  
Not that she was a prissy tart, but she liked to keep her house decent. Though only when she had the time. Her books were usually scattered around, and her afghans tossed about.  
  
She had only recently tidied up in a flurry of anxiousness. Why had he looked at her like that? She started up with a sponge and did some dishes. Dipping her hands in the warmth, she still felt cold.  
  
True, it had been years since she had had a decent date. But these blokes didn't have the guts to date her. they were all after girly girls and paled at her beer drinking and potty mouth.  
  
Ahh well, sod it, she had said many a time. But now she couldn't ignore that all her friends seemed happy enough with their dates.  
  
Harry had even gotten to snagging a gal from Liverpool with a scholarship to study at Oxford...she was muggle, he was still trying to break it to her that he was a wizard.  
  
And Ron with his fiance made her sick with their snogging and pet talk. The girl had even trained Ron to be admirably considerate. She was still in awe. she shook her head thinking about how he had almost asked the waiter for a duel after offending Bridget.   
  
Not just those two,Ginny had a lovely relationship with Neville. No one suspected they would have developed into such a loving pair. It was quite curious.  
  
her thoughts turned back to Draco. when did he get so buff anyways. She had to mentally slap herself, then sneered. He was disabled and still had Pansy and half the pureblood girls hanging off of him. He had filled out a little, even looked ok for a prat. It was all for the family name that the girls liked him though.  
  
She shook her head and decided to finish the dishes later, her hands were already pruned and she had only done a dish or two.  
  
She laid on the couch, picked up a book and tried to forget the day.  
  
a/n: So what do you think? Any suggestions. constructive criticism? I shall try and live up to the rating of R a little later. I like relationships that have a little tension first.  
  
I would like to thank Dorothy, Yami Ray and fashiondiv for their lovely reviews for the first chappie. Hope you like!! And Yami, all will be revealed...I think. 


	3. Drunken Debauchery

'ello all. I have returned from movie watching to write. Yes, more of this developing relationship between Draco and Hermione.  
  
Oh yea, I don't own HP...pout but ya never know.  
  
Dream sequence::::  
  
First she felt the weight and warmth of another body on hers. She opened her eyes wide to find she was sitting on a bed and her assignment was laying on top of her with his eyes closed.  
  
She tried to gently awaken him, stroking his face lovingly. And then she saw the blood...the warmth she had felt was his blood covering her body.  
  
All she could hear was a dull ringing, she finally realized it was her own scream. She tried to escape, but Draco's body was pinning her. And the bed covered in red silk was stained crimson.  
  
Then she looked out into the pitch black that surrounded the bed and felt something stir.  
  
She could hear it, but couldn't see. Hermione had to stifle a whimper.   
  
Draco's eyelids fluttered open. It was dark and the clock read 3:00 a.m. Why was he dreaming of the mudblood?  
  
Hermione woke and pulled the covers around her shoulders. It was late and she still had a hangover from the night festivities. She looked at the drunken young man she had brought home.   
  
Groaning in frustration, she walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She hated awkward moments like these.  
  
Whenever something horrible happened in her life, she turned to dear Jack and it always got her in trouble.  
  
So here she was in her bloomers out in her kitchen at 3:04 a.m. and she had no idea what to do. It was quite nippy now that she thought about it, too cold.  
  
She turned around to see a full moon out her window, wide and deathly pale...almost blue. Somewhere someone else was looking at the moon too.  
  
Draco without thinking got up out of bed and almost fell down the small rise that held his bed. No wait, he was walking!  
  
He marveled at it for a moment then the hairs on the back of his neck pricked. He wasn't alone.  
  
A hissing voice spoke from the dark recesses of his room and said amused," I see we are happy with gifts from the master..."  
  
Draco blanched when he realized there is only one master...  
  
Stubbing her toe on a old copy of Hogwart's a History Hermione made her way to the couch, feeling around for lumps.  
  
She plopped down and felt a sharp pain. Reaching down she picked up a stiletto that she had thrown in the frenzy to get the blonde bloke into her room and bed him.  
  
Embarassed at her lack of judgement when drunk, Hermione was suddenly lifted and jerked stiffly into a full body bind.  
  
She looked at the wand and the eyes lit by the moon and was in shock. Those same blue eyes at the other end of the wand looked at her in amusement.  
  
That was all she remembered before she heard her bedroom door open and her late night companion say,"he..." A flash of light and a dull thud as his body fell to the floor.   
  
Hermione didn't know if he was dead, but she feared the worst. Her mind began to click with a plan, but she knew in the bind she was almost helpless.  
  
She had also been stupid enough to leave her wand on the bedside dresser. Would lack of forethought be her downfall?  
  
a/n: Yes, this one's a little short, but I felt like leaving you in suspense. Thanks for all the lovely reviews. And it's starting to heat up. Don't worry, we're mounting, we'll get to the action soon enough. 


	4. Whose eyes?

Heh...here goes my fourth chappie! thanks to all you who reviewed. As to all questions, I'll try my best to answer, but here goes.  
  
Oh yea, I don't own HP or anything, just the plot and stuff.  
  
Hermione had entertained herself for hours looking at the same yellow spot on the wall. After her kidnapper had carried her from the flat with a bag over her head, he had gone to an alley and apparated the both of them.   
  
She wasn't sure where they were. All she could see before her was the same wall. A yellow with paisly flower print. It was quite hideous in her opinion.  
  
Still, the bed she had been laid in was comfortable enough,but the full body bind undid some of that comfort. She had a huge crick in her neck that she would have to get out later...  
  
She stopped breathing. The door was creaking open and...Voldermort floated in. She could feel the heat being slowly sucked from her body. Maybe she was just afraid.   
  
"Hello young Granger. I'm so glad to see that my spy in the ministry has so easily delivered you here, "Voldemort practically hissed out.  
  
Laughing derisively he proceeded closer to her until he was only a few feet from her. Picking up a tuft of her frizzy hair he made a comment on someone's lack of taste.  
  
She wanted to spit, but realized it would only be wasted since she couldn't aim.   
  
Voldemort sat down as if ready for a long explanation period and began.  
  
"Your mother was a beautiful woman, she had far better hair and was a brilliant witch. So far as I could teach her."

Hermione's head whirled in confusion...  
and as Voldemort continued to talk her eyes grew large and fearful.   
  
"I saw her once walking from school and began to walk with her, offering my services with her books. From there our relationship grew.Of course, I was far older, some would say I was a cradle robber.  
  
I was fresh from school and wasn't quite sure what to do with my life, so I decided to explore the muggle world so I could find a way to destroy what had haunted me for so long.  
  
Then I saw her. I wanted death to the world. But I loved her with the best in me...  
  
It wasn't enough. When she lost interest in the dark arts I grew frustrated and put a memory charm on her. It didn't work as I had planned. It only made her forget everything we were together.  
  
It's funny she was so young, but still so beautiful. I suppose many thought it was sick, but we didn't care.  
  
You Hermione are the fruit of your mother's sin. She married that bastard of a dentist and forgot me.   
  
She was the only one I couldn't harm. But you, you are a different story. We can make sure you are bound to a dark wizard and fulfill your mother's destiny.  
  
Shall we call it, the sin of your mother's flesh?   
  
In the end all shall pay. But I have found that Paul was quite eager to have you. Don't worry, he won't bite." Voldemort stood up and slowly walked to the door, leaving her line of sight.  
  
The only testament to his departure was the cold thud of the door closing. She was surprisingly calm. But still...  
  
Paul? She had seen him looking at her, but she was never interested. And he hinted once in a while, but he was foremost her boss.  
  
Had the world gone crazy? She was quite sure that Voldemort was old enough to be her grandfather, but...he had done many magical maneveurs in the past.   
  
And what in the hell had happened between her mother and Voldemort. So many questions...Wait. Hermione suddenly remembered. The blue eyes.  
  
Draco woke up sluggishly at first, but eventually stood up to embrace the day. It felt good to walk, but how had he done it? Draco had gone to every doctor and healer known in the magical and muggle world.  
  
Then again, they say there is ancient dark magic that few tamper with.  
  
Draco shook the cold that crept to his spine thinking of it. He could walk. He hadn't yet indulged another with his secret, but he was sure the house elves would tell his parents soon enough.  
  
Not that they would care. They had probably forsaken his life to the dark lord in promise for giving them a presentable heir.  
  
What to do now? He could walk! Should he sit and worry of everything or look to the sky and grasp his first chance to walk? Draco slowed his walk to the balcony thinking of his dream. Why in hell would he have a dream like that. And why would the first face to greet him from that dream be the dark lord himself?  
  
Was it all a dream then? Would he wake up? It was all too confusing. Draco felt a headache and decided it better to lay down. He would take a nap and decide it all from there.  
  
a/n: So what exactly is going on. Is this all one big dream sequence. Who owns the blue eyes? And what happened with the dark lord and Hermione's mother? Suggestions? comments?  
  
Read and review please!  
  
whew, give me a break, this is my first fanfic. Well, let's just say, next chapter, it's going to heat up.


End file.
